Sometimes, These Things Have A Way of Working Out
by Bjrit92
Summary: The summer after fifth grade, the Patakis moved to Michigan. Now, fifteen years later, due to chance and a new job, Helga is back in Hillwood, living temporarily in The Sunset Arms. What happens when she and Arnold meet again after so many years?
1. Chapter 1

I do NOT own Hey Arnold! or any of the characters in this story (except maybe a couple of the minor ones). ENJOY and PLEASE REVIEW! :)

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The neighborhood hadn't changed much from when she had last seen it. A couple of the old shops had shut down and been replaced by new ones, and the roads had gotten a make-over, but everything else looked as it had when she left fifteen years ago. Which meant her journey would soon come to an end. She drove her car down another street and turned onto a smaller, quiet block near the park. The boarding house stood where it always had, looking as it always had, right down to the mismatched shutters. She parked her car along the street and got out. She took a deep breath, the smell of the air bringing childhood memories rushing back to her. She could faintly hear in those memories Harold and the other children jeering and laughing during an old baseball game. She wondered where everyone had ended up. Her family had moved to Michigan the summer before sixth grade, so she had lost touch with just about everyone but Phoebe. Had all of her old classmates moved on with their lives to other parts of the country, or had they stayed close to home? She doubted many of them would even remember her, especially when she had changed so much since then. The first thing Miriam had done when they had reached Ann Arbor was enroll her in the closest junior high as well as anger management classes and therapy. She had complained at first, but after a couple of years, she had to admit to herself she was changing for the better. Gone was the rough, sharp-tongued, sarcastic tomboy. She no longer used meanness as a defense like she used to. However, she refused to become the girly-girl her mother wished her to be. She refused to take Cotillion classes, and tried out for baseball instead of ballet. The only girly-girl activity she allowed herself was her facials and manicures that she treated herself to once a month. The result was a slightly less sarcastic baseball player with sparkling nails and no unibrow. Helga took one more deep breath and opened her trunk to retrieve her suitcase. Wouldn't you know her boss wanted her to move out here to Hillwood "for the present time" as they tried to branch out the company to smaller parts of the state to draw more business. As one of the newer operational consultants, the delegation to be sent to the smallest part of the state fell on her. The fact that the smallest part of the state happened to be her childhood home was a surprising coincidence.

Helga made her way up the walk, suitcase in-tow. They'd had to sell the house when they moved. Big Bob's beeper business had bloomed unexpectedly and he had had to move out to Michigan to keep his promotion. It wasn't too traumatic for Helga. There wasn't much she missed here, besides a few people. Until she could find her own cheap apartment, however, she would stay in the boarding house, if there was room enough for her. She refused to bunk with that crazy European dude with the weird accent. She reached the door and rang the bell. A small, stooped woman with frizzy grey hair answered the door.

_ "It's amazing she's still walking around," _Helga thought, _"she's got to be close to 100."_ Out loud she said, "Hi! I was wondering if you have any rooms available to rent for a short time. Maybe a month or two." The woman looked her up and down intently before replying, "you're that girl from the neighborhood that used to torment Arnie when he was little. You've all grown up." She turned and walked into the hallway and around a corner. The door was left open, and Helga, assuming that she meant for her to follow, walked through and down the hallway. She found the woman sitting in an easy chair by a fireplace. In a chair next to her sat an old gentleman, also nearing triple-digits, who was reading a paper. He looked up as she walked in the room and stood in the doorway.

Can I help you, miss?" he asked kindly.

"Yes, please. I was wanting to rent a room, if any are available," she replied.

"How long do you need to stay?"

"Only a couple of months. Is that possible?"

The elderly gentleman folded his paper and stood up gently. He smiled. "Of course it is possible. Follow me." He began to walk to an old desk in the corner of the room. When he reached it, he began fiddling with a drawer and shuffling around papers. After a few moments he held a small stack out to Helga, who took them and a pen from his hands. "Just fill these out and sign on the dotted line. First month's rent is due with the papers, and after that, on the tenth of every month. You'll be in the second door on the right up the stairs. There's a bedroom and a bathroom. We all share the kitchen and the sitting area down here, I hope you don't mind. If you need anything, just ask." He proceeded back to his chair and his paper while Helga sat down at the desk. She began to fill out the information sheets and questionnaires. After what felt like an hour she signed on the dotted line and handed the papers, and the first month's rent in cash, back to Arnold's grandfather. After smiling and repeating the directions to her room, she walked out of the room and towed her suitcase up the stairs.

Opening the door, she surveyed her new home. A double bed in the corner, a large window on the wall facing the empty lot beside the house. A small bathroom with a shower-tub combo, toilet, and sink all smashed together in the tiny space. There was a dusty mirror hanging on the wall of the bathroom, and a picture frame containing a faded print of a sunset over the ocean hung over the bed. A small lamp sat on a bedside table, and a wardrobe stood against the far wall.

_ "It needs a little work, but I guess it'll do,"_ she thought. She threw her suitcase on the bed and began to unpack. Setting her toiletries in the bathroom, her books on the small shelf on the wall, she unpacked the little clothing she had brought with her. Looking around the room, she decided that her first activity of the day would be shopping. This room needed help, as did her wardrobe. She found she actually enjoyed shopping, once she had given it a chance. Usually, every time Miriam dragged her to the mall, she griped and complained until they left with the same type of outfit Helga had always worn, only a size larger as she grew. It wasn't until Olga had come to visit and talked Helga into a relaxing spa trip and shopping that she realized she enjoyed trying on the different outfits. Puberty helped, when she finally stopped looking like a 9 year-old boy instead of a 13 year-old girl, she learned to like trying on more form-flattering clothes and skin-flattering colors. At the spa they taught her new ways to wear her hair instead of the pigtails and bows that she had always worn. As of late, her hair reached the middle of her back, parted over the side, with a few choppy layers cut through the natural waves. She still, however, allowed herself to wear the occasional bow.

Helga spent the afternoon shopping around town at some of the old stores and some of the new. By the end of the day, the room, and her wardrobe, had transformed. There were now pink curtains hanging on the window to match the pink comforter and sheet set she had bought for the bed. A new picture of a flowery garden hung over the bed, with a poster of the Detroit Tigers hanging on the wall opposite of her bed. She had dusted the entire room and polished the mirror and cleaned the entire bathroom. There was now a pink mat in the bathroom with matching towels beside the sink, and a lime green rug laying across the floor in the middle of the bedroom. About the time she had finished cleaning and re-decorating, there was a knock on the door. Helga opened it to see Arnold's grandmother standing in the doorway.

"Dinner's ready in the kitchen if you want to come down," she stated. She glanced past Helga and into the room. "I like the new curtains." On that note she turned and walked away. Slightly unsure, Helga followed her down into the kitchen, where a small group had gathered around a table. She vaguely recognized a couple of the faces, such as the short construction worker, and the older Vietnamese man, what was his name? Mr. Wind? Something like that. There were a couple of people she was sure she had never seen before, a young man and a middle-aged woman, but she figured she would be introduced to sometime or other.

Sometime came sooner than expected. As she approached the table, Arnold's grandmother stopped her and asked suddenly, "who are you, again?"

"Um, Helga Pataki, ma'am," Helga replied. Without another word, the woman began spooning out soup for everyone. Slightly confused, Helga sat in the empty seat ahead of her. The elderly man turned to Helga, "Don't mind Pookie. She gets a little nuttier every day. You can call her Grandma Gertie, and you can call me Grandpa Phil. This is Mr. Hyunh, Ernie Potts, Mrs. Ambroso, and Charlie Danforth. You'll get to know us all the more you're here. Arnie's still at work, not expecting him home any time soon." Helga choked a little on her soup. Clearing her throat, she replied, "Arnold still lives here?"

"Yeah, he moved back here after college. He's some big-time lawyer up in the next town over. He's got a big case coming up soon, so he's been working late all week. Won't be expecting him back here until ten or later. I'm sure he'll want to catch up with you. You went to school with him didn't you?"

"I used to, back at P.S. 118. I moved just before junior high. I doubt he even remembers me," Helga replied, a slight tone of regret in her voice.

"Nonsense," Grandpa Phil replied, "I'm sure he remembers you. Pataki? Yeah, I remember him saying that name a lot. I'm sure he remembers you."

Helga's heart skipped a beat. Fifteen years had not been long enough to get over her crush on Arnold. She had dated through high school and college, but there was still a chunk of her heart that remained a 9 year-old girl, in love with a football-head. Of course, even if he remembered her, the only memories he had of her was of her old, nasty, taunting, sarcastic self. He probably wanted nothing to do with her, even if she had changed, which she had. Maybe fifteen years apart was enough to erase the bad memories enough that she could start anew, with better memories. She would find out soon enough.

Sipping on her peas and carrots soup, she remained quiet, preferring to listen to the various conversations between the familiar boarders. Grandpa Phil and Ernie had gotten caught up arguing over the consequences of tearing down the old park in favor of a strip mall. Mr. Hyunh and Mrs. Ambroso were comparing stories about their children and grandchildren. Grandma Gertie was babbling away to no one in particular about jungle cats prowling the kitchen. Feeling eyes on her, Helga looked over at Charlie, whom had been staring at her. As soon as she looked at him, he began talking. He asked her about various aspects of her life: Where was she from, why she moved, where she went to college, where she worked—the questions were endless. She could hear an echo of her old self in the back of her mind exclaiming, "_Crimeny, Bucko! What's with the third degree?_" But, as she had learned to quiet that voice a long time ago, she maintained an air of polite interest as she answered his questions and he answered questions about himself that she hadn't asked.

As dinner wound down, Grandma Gertie had stood up and began clearing the table with help from Mrs. Ambroso. Charlie, Mr. Hyunh, and Ernie left the table as Grandpa Phil turned to Helga and asked, "what did you say you do?"

"I'm an operations consultant for the law firm Rutherford and Sims," Helga answered. "I do a lot of management and training for prospective lawyers and aides, as well as finding ways for the company to run smoothly and efficiently. My job is basically to make sure the company runs without a problem."

Grandpa Phil nodded in response. He called into the kitchen, "Pookie, do you remember the name of the company Arnold works for? I can't remember."

"Kimba is a warrior for the sun gods of justice!" Grandma Gertie replied. "He defeats evil with pen and paper and sets out to pull the world out of darkness!"

Grandpa Phil shook his head, "of course Pookie. Go back to the dishes." He turned back to Helga, "I can't remember the name of the law firm he works for. You'll have to ask him tomorrow if you see him."

The thought of seeing Arnold after all of these years left a strange feeling in the pit of Helga's stomach. Fear mixed with unrequited love mixed with more fear and a little bit of excitement. She left the table and headed back to her room. Maybe a hot shower would help her clear her head before bed. Tomorrow was her first day at the new office, so she had to look her best, which meant going to bed earlier than normal. If she saw Arnold tomorrow, she would try and let things play themselves out.

"_Just be cool,_" she told herself. "_He probably doesn't even remember the mean-spirited pigtail girl from elementary school. Don't get your hopes up._"


	2. Chapter 2

It was past eleven when Arnold dragged himself through the front door of The Sunset Arms. Hanging his jacket on the hat stand, he made his way toward his room. As he passed the sitting area, he saw his Grandma dozing in the easy chair by the fire. Smiling to himself, he walked into the room and knelt down beside her. He shook her arm gently and whispered, "Grandma, come on. Let's get you into bed."

Her eyes flickered awake and took on a dreamy appearance. "Miles. I've just put the wash on. I can't take you out for ice cream right now," she replied. Arnold's smile turned sad. She was doing this more often now-a-days; mistaking Arnold for his father and drifting in and out of old memories.

"Grandma, it's me. It's Arnold. Come on, let's get you upstairs." He tugged gently on her arm to coax her to move. Her eyes lost their dreamy look and she smiled at him.

"Oh, Kimba. I know it's you. Yes, let's go upstairs. This chair is no good for my back."

Arnold half-carried his Grandmother up the stairs and into her room where Grandpa was sleeping in their bed. As he helped her into the bed, she turned to him as she fell back asleep and whispered, "don't forget to say 'konichiwa' to the new boarder."

"We have a new boarder?" Arnold asked, but his Grandma was already fast asleep. A new boarder? They hadn't had a new boarder in months, not since Charlie had moved in. A new boarder was unexpected as well: usually prospective boarders make contact in advance. Whoever this was arrived unannounced, or Arnold would have heard about him. "_This might not be that bad,_" Arnold thought. "_Maybe he's close to my age and we can be friends. Charlie's the closest to my age, and he's okay most of the time, but he never knows when to shut up. I wonder when I'll meet this new guy._" He made his way to his bedroom, passing by the now occupied tenant room. For now, his need for sleep was overriding his curiosity. He'd been working from 6am until 10 or 11pm every day for the past week. There was a major court case coming up. It was his first big, public case since starting at the firm, fresh out of law school. A political candidate for the state's governor had been caught laundering money from business supporters. He had worked on several other cases as the main prosecutor in a small team of prosecutors, and the cases had always turned out the way they wanted it to. With this case, however, Arnold was working for the first time as the sole prosecutor for the state. He was spending more and more hours in the office, going over every inch of detail and working through as many different questions and scenarios from as many different angles as he could possibly find. If he ended this case the way the state wanted it to end, with the politician behind bars, he was getting his own small practice right here in Hillwood. He entered his room, which had been virtually unchanged for most of his life. Changing sleepily into his pajamas, he crawled into bed and turned his alarm clock on. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

His alarm clock screeched around 6am, shrill as ever. Groaning, he rolled over and smacked the tiny noise-maker until it turned off. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of bed and grabbed his things for the shower. He yawned as he made his way downstairs to the second floor shower. He reached the bathroom door to find it locked: someone had beaten him to the shower. He settled himself to wait for the person in the bathroom to leave, when he heard someone faintly singing.

_When I was a young thing, once on a day_

_Dreaming under my apple tree_

At first he figured it was Grandma, but he soon realized the voice was too young to be his Grandmother's. He followed the sound down the hall, ending up at the door of the new tenant. The lucky person had gotten one of the two rooms in the house that had it's own bathroom, the other being Grandma and Grandpa's room. It sounded as though the new tenant—a woman, obviously—was singing in the shower.

_A great flock of bluebirds, sailing through the sky_

_They spied my tree as they passed by_

Arnold moved closer to the door almost subconsciously and leaned against the wall, listening to the beautiful voice. Something about it was familiar, as though a ghost of a memory was tugging at his thoughts.

_And oh, it was a wonderful sight to see_

_When they settled down to rest in my apple tree_

"_Count them" said my mother, "how?" said I_

_Out of the window came this reply:_

_One you'll have sorrow, two you'll have joy_

_Three get a present, four get a boy_

_Five receive silver, six receive gold_

_Seven's a secret that's never been told_

_Eight a love letter with promises three_

_Nine means your true love's as true as can be_

The door to the bathroom opened, and Arnold's eyes shot open, unaware he had closed them. Ernie stepped out of the bathroom in a towel, carrying his shower supply. He grunted a greeting to Arnold and began walking back to his room. Arnold stopped him.

"Hey, Ernie. Do you know who this is singing?" Arnold asked.

"My guess is the new tenant who showed up randomly yesterday afternoon," Ernie replied.

"I figured it was the new tenant," Arnold replied. "Do you know who she is?"

Ernie thought for a moment. "I can't remember her name. Olga or something. Last name something like Pancakes. I dunno. Pretty thing though, long blonde hair. Says she knows you. That's all I remember." Ernie stalked off to his room and shut the door.

"_Olga Pancakes? Somehow I don't believe he got her name right. I'm pretty sure I don't know anyone named Olga._"

Humming the tune the mysterious new woman had been singing, Arnold walked into the bathroom to take his shower and get ready for work.

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Helga continued to sing as she shut off the water and wrapped a towel around her. She didn't know what it was about singing that relaxed her so much, but a shower just wasn't complete without music. Music was the one thing she found in Michigan that helped her the most through her years of therapy with knocking down her rough exterior and embracing her true self. Her therapist had suggested piano lessons, which Miriam insisted on. Helga learned she had a knack for music, and after mastering the piano, she moved on to voice lessons. Music became her new great love in life. She now played the piano, the guitar, the cello, and sang. Her favorite instrument was her voice, because she could truly feel the music, and manipulating it within her own body felt so natural. However, she had never been able to bring herself to sing in front of anyone but her voice teacher and her mother. Not even Big Bob or Olga had heard her sing.

She left the bathroom and dressed in the semi-darkness of the room. She opened the wardrobe and looked hard at her recently-rejuvenated clothing selection. Finally deciding on a new, form-fitting, pink silk blouse and grey pencil skirt, she re-entered the bathroom to blow-dry her hair and apply her makeup. Looking at herself in the mirror, she allowed herself to pin back a small section of hair with a bow that matched her shirt perfectly. Ten minutes later, she was slipping on her shoes and heading down the stairs to head to work. As she passed the sitting room without glancing inside, a voice called out to her.

"Eleanor, aren't you staying for breakfast?"

Grandma Gertie had called her Eleanor twice last night in conversation, so she promptly responded to the wrong name. "No thank you, Grandma Gertie! I've got to head in to work. It's my first day at the new office. I'll see you tonight!" She barely glanced into the room so she did not notice who else she may have been in the room with her. Hopefully someone was keeping an eye on her, because Helga didn't quite trust that Grandma Gertie could do very well left alone. She grabbed her jacket off of the hat stand, and throwing her purse over her shoulder, headed out the door and to her car. She would stop along the way and pick up some breakfast if she got hungry.

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She didn't see him, but he had seen her. Sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room, eating a bagel and reading the morning paper before he headed to work, he looked up from the newsprint when he heard his Grandmother call out to someone.

"Eleanor, aren't you staying for breakfast?" She called.

"_Who is Eleanor? The new tenant? I thought her name was Olga or something,"_ he thought to himself as he looked toward the doorway.

"No thank you, Grandma Gertie! I've got to head in to work. It's my first day at the new office. I'll see you tonight!" called the voice that had been singing in the shower. She passed by the room as she spoke, and for a split second, she looked into the room. Long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. A pink shirt with a small matching bow in her hair. Grown up now, with a woman's figure and two eyebrows. She walked out the door and Arnold ran to the window.

"Olga Pancakes my foot. That's Helga G. Pataki, I'd bet my life on it. She's…different," he mused to himself.

_"Well of course she's different. It's been fifteen years since you saw her last. The question is what the hell is she doing back here in the boarding house?"_

"Grandma," Arnold asked, "do you remember that girl? The new tenant?" Arnold's Grandmother looked up and smiled.

"She's the little mean girl who used to pick on you in grade school," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Uh, yeah…she is. What is she doing here?" Arnold inquired, his mind reeling after seeing his childhood bully and, after realizing hers was the voice he'd listened to this morning, and against his better judgment, finding himself strangely attracted to her. He realized he was still staring out the window, even though she had driven away several minutes ago.

"Eleanor has come to rid the world of the dreaded Black Knight. She fights for truth and justice, and has requested she be allowed to sleep in this dwelling until she is able to locate a more permanent residence. You know, I was in this same situation once. But then, King Arthur looked at me and said…" Arnold tuned out his Grandmother by that point. Through her outburst of imagined memory, she had said Helga was staying here until she found her own place. That made sense. And Helga had said it was her first day at the new office. He assumed her company had moved her out here. He bet that was an interesting surprise for her, having to move back to her home that she'd left behind when her family moved away. He hadn't seen her since the fifth grade, but he could still hear her sharp voice jeering and calling him "Football-head" and "Bucko". It was hard to believe the unibrowed tomboy who would punch you as soon as look at you had morphed over the years into this tall beauty who sang in the shower.

"Is something wrong, Kimba?" Grandma asked. Arnold started and looked at his watch.

_ "Great,"_ he thought, _I'm going to be late. I haven't seen her in years, and already Helga is messing with me."_ Kissing his Grandma on the cheek, Arnold stuffed the last of his bagel in his mouth, grabbed his jacket and his keys, and ran to the car. _"Keep it together, Arnold. You don't need her getting you into a wreck on your way to work. Focus on the court case. You can deal with this later."_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 is done and ready to be read and reviewed! Thank you guys SO MUCH for your reviews and compliments! It means so much to me that you like my story so much. I only hope I continue to please, and don't worry, all of your questions will be answered in due time. This chapter's a little longer than the last two, but hopefully just as enjoyable! Don't forget to READ and REVIEW! :)

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Helga walked outside to her Honda promptly at 5:30pm. Opening the door, she slumped inside onto the seat, exhausted. She looked up at the brick building she had just left. It was a large building for Sundale, the town beside of Hillwood. It wasn't nearly the size or quality she was used to, however. She was used to twenty-one floors, not twelve, that you could ride on a glass elevator that spoke to you when it stopped on each floor, carrying twenty plus passengers at a time. The elevators here were small and enclosed, with barely enough room for five or six people at a time, and gave an annoying "ding" sound when passing every floor, whether it was stopping or not. Her office was on the fourth floor. "Office" is a stretch, though. Helga now worked out of a cubicle, surrounded by cubicles belonging to the other six operational consultants for the firm. The conference rooms were on the tenth floor, and this morning Helga found she was running late for her first conference. The elevator was taking forever to arrive, so she found herself running up six flights of stairs. She had spent five years playing baseball, so the physical activity would typically have been nothing to her, but running six flights of stairs in wedges in a minute and a half could knock the breath out of anyone. She had ended up being the last one into the conference room, her hair slightly a mess and out of breath. Luckily, the meeting hadn't started. Unluckily, this meeting involved her new boss, the head of this branch, Carl Jackson. As inconspicuous as she had tried to be, she saw him raise the corner of his eyebrow and follow her to her seat with his eyes.

The rest of the day had gone virtually without a hitch. She had made friends with a couple of her new coworkers, and already had a lunch date planned with one girl she had particularly hit it off with for the next day. No, there had been no more problems with how the day had gone, but she was mentally exhausted from all of the paperwork and file-reading and more paperwork. There was paperwork involving her move there, paperwork about company procedures, paperwork about past court cases, paperwork about upcoming court cases, paperwork about many of the employees, and paperwork about paperwork and how to complete it. She was almost certain the first time she went to the bathroom she'd be handed a paper inside the door of proper bathroom procedure. Her hand was still cramped and her eyes were strained and she had an unforgiving pounding in her left temple. The sooner she went home, the better. She shoved the key into the ignition and drove back to The Sunset Arms, determined to go for a run as soon as she got back.

The trip did not take long. Soon she was walking in the boarding house, through the empty kitchen, past the sitting room where Mrs. Ambroso sat knitting and Grandpa Phil was reading the paper. Reaching her room, she unlocked the door and tossed her purse and jacket onto the bed. She stripped off her work clothes—just relieving herself of them made her feel infinitely better. She opened her wardrobe and threw on a pair of running shorts and a purple tank top. Throwing her hair up in a ponytail, she shoved her feet into her running shoes and headed downstairs. Stopping only to wave and Grandpa Phil when he looked up as she passed by, she headed outside and into the crisp autumn evening air.

It had been years, and yet she still knew these streets like the back of her hand. She used to run them back when she was a kid, or walk them for hours on end when Miriam and Bob were arguing or too caught up in nothing to even remember they had a daughter. Phoebe had joined her on occasion, but Helga liked to be alone on her runs. Like with music, running was her way of relieving stress. She relished the physical activity, and focusing on keeping her breathing and her pace steady left little thought to focus on other things. She decided to run through the town and see just how much had changed. She didn't know who all still lived here and who didn't. After the move, she stayed in contact with virtually no one but Phoebe, who was currently teaching a course on biochemistry at Yale. Gerald, who had moved to Connecticut with his fiancé when she had gotten the teaching job, was currently a general manager for Slap Daddy Records. Phoebe had kept her somewhat up-to-date with the old gang from P.S. 118 over the years. She had known when Sheena and Eugene had gotten married and moved to Massachusetts, and she and Phoebe had had a good laugh when Wolfgang was arrested for trying to assault a cop. She didn't know much of what happened to everyone else, though.

She slowed to a walk as she hit Main Street. Taking in the familiar sights and smells, she stopped at several of the old shops and looked through the windows, reminiscing on afternoons spent wandering these same sidewalks with Phoebe and other friends. She stopped in front of Mr. Green's Butcher Shop, and seeing the same man standing behind the counter with his back to her, decided to walk in and say hello. Who knows? Maybe he'd remember her.

"Good evening Mr. Green!" Helga announced as she walked into the shop. The man turned to face Helga, who's eyes widened in surprise at the man behind the counter's true identity.

"Well if it isn't Heeeeeelga G. Pataki," Harold replied. The older version of himself was not much different from the younger version of himself, except for the dark goatee. Rubbing his hands on the towel he held, he grinned. "There's a sight I never thought I'd see again."

Helga grinned as well. "What up, Pink Boy? Miss me?" she answered.

"You look so different. What are you doing here?" Harold inquired.

"Well duh, I'm different. It's been years since you've seen me last. I'm here on business. My company moved me out here so I'm staying in town for an indefinite amount of time. What about you? What have you been doing with your life?"

Harold looked around at the store proudly. "It's mine. Mr. Green retired three years ago and gave me the place. Patty and I have been running it since he left," he replied.

"So you and Patty are still together?" Helga asked.

Harold wiggled his left ring finger, "been married two years this September. Little Ronnie's due in October."

Helga grinned. "Little Ronnie? Congrats, man! Although I don't know how I feel about a little you running around…" she teased. "I really am happy for you, though. So, are you and Patty the only ones left around this place?"

Harold considered for a moment. "Hmm…Nadine got pregnant and dropped out junior year. Last I heard she'd moved to East Glen and had married some guy from there. Peapod kid and Brainy are still around here somewhere. Rhonda and Curly got hitched last spring—yeah, I know. Who woulda guessed, huh?—anyway they moved to Riverside just after. After Lila and Arnold broke up sophomore year, she started dating Stinky. They still live around here, she's the school counselor at P.S. 118 and he's a janitor there. And I'm sure you know all about Phoebe and Gerald. But that's about all I remember."

Helga had listened intently to the news of her classmate's fate. She had given a snort when told about Rhonda and Curly, of all couples. Her heart had skipped a beat, however, when told that Arnold and Lila had dated. _"He finally got the girl of his dreams. I wonder what happened."_ Eager to continue on her run, Helga bade Harold farewell and passed her greetings and congratulations on to his wife. The knowledge that most of her old classmates had moved away did not surprise her. She would have too if she'd had to spend eighteen years here.

A drop of water pulled her out of her inner musings. She stopped and looked up. Clouds had rolled in overhead, and it was beginning to rain. Picking up her pace, she ran back to the boarding house, not quite beating the rain. She ran in through the door, almost running into Grandma Gertie, who had donned a most interesting outfit. A striped one-piece bathing suit underneath a trench coat with a bed sheet wrapped around her neck like a cape, she was waving a plastic sword and warned Helga to "fear the might of the gods of thunder and rain" who were currently "warring with the sun gods of peace." During the warning, Grandpa Phil had walked up behind her, smiling. He kissed the top of her head.

"Pookie, why don't you go make sure the table is set for all eight of us for dinner? There's a good girl." Turning to Helga, he shook his head. "I'm sorry about that. Don't mind her, she means well. She lives in her own little world now-a-days."

Something had caught Helga's attention, "all eight of us for dinner?" she asked.

Grandpa Phil brightened, "Yes! Arnold got off early today, so he's home in time for dinner for the first time in weeks. He's upstairs changing. Pookie was so happy she made his favorite meal: Roast beef and stewed broccoli with cheese. If you want to go get out of your wet clothes, dinner will be done in a smidge."

"Uh, wet clothes…yeah. Mmmhmmm. Right. Be down in a few." Helga's brain had jammed.

"_Arnold's home for dinner? I'm going to see Arnold for the first time in all these years. Oh God oh God oh God. What if he still hates me? What do I say? What do I wear? I don't know if I can do this."_

Helga found her way into her room and stripped off the wet clothes and tossed them in the hamper. Opening her wardrobe, she stopped. "_What do I wear? A dress? No, too formal. It's just dinner. But I can't wear jeans and a tshirt. I don't want to look like a slob. Oh God oh God oh God."_

Helga eventually threw the blouse she had worn to work back on with a pair of skinny jeans. Cleaning the smeared makeup off of her face, she examined her mess of hair. Taking it down, she brushed through it twice, but the rain had caused it to bump and frizz, so she threw it back up on top of her head in a bun. Donning a touch of mascara to replace the mascara the rain had ruined, she pronounced herself presentable enough, and walked out of the room and down the stairs.

_"Oh God I'm shaking. Stop that!"_ She commanded herself. She walked into the kitchen, and like this morning, realized she was the last to arrive. "_Great. Way to make an entrance, idiot."_ She took her usual place at the table and looked around. Most everyone at the table was already talking and eating, except for one person. She made eye contact with a very familiar pair of green eyes that she hadn't seen in fifteen years. Her heart raced, and she tried to give a small smile, but it stuck halfway there. His brow was furrowed in slight confusion, but soon relaxed a bit and he returned her smile.

_ "Oh God oh God oh God he's smiling at me! Arnold is smiling at me!"_

Helga took in his appearance. He was no longer the short, skinny kid she used to pick on. He had grown into his head: despite the strange shape, it no longer appeared as massive. He was much taller, taller than Helga was now. She wondered if he'd played any sports in high school or college. He was built like an athlete, with muscular arms and a lean body under his tshirt. He no longer wore his little blue hat, and his hair was not as wild.

_"Damn…he got hot."_ She looked away and down at her plate, pretending to focus on cutting her roast beef. She prayed the blush she felt didn't show up too bad on her cheeks. Luckily, Charlie managed to catch her attention soon after and began chatting away. Her mind on other things, she listened politely and gave comments and responses as needed.

After a half hour of forced responses and roast beef ingesting, Ernie announced he needed to leave. He had a big contracting deal he had to prepare for in the morning. Mr. Hyunh excused himself as well, and soon after, Mrs. Ambroso left the dinner. Everyone else stood up and Grandpa Phil had reached down to start clearing plates. Both Arnold and Helga began to speak at the same time, while simultaneously reaching for the plate in Grandpa Phil's hand. Arnold glanced sideways at Helga before continuing, "Grandpa, why don't you and Grandma go sit in the sitting room by the fire. Let me worry about clearing the table."

"Now, Shortman, it's your first dinner with us in ages. You've been working yourself to the bone all week, you shouldn't have to work at home too," Grandpa argued.

"I'll help," volunteered Helga, before mentally slapping herself. What had she just done?

Arnold looked rather taken aback by the offer, but Grandpa smiled, "okay, miss Pataki. You and the Shortman here can take care of the dishes tonight. Don't let him work too hard." He walked to Grandma Gertie, took her hand, and walked toward the sitting room. Without a word, Arnold began piling up dishes. Helga followed suit and carried her pile to the kitchen sink. Turning on the hot water, she began soaping up the dishes. Arnold came over to the sink and set his dishes next to Helga's.

"Here, let me do that," he said.

"Oh, no way Football head. You heard my express orders not to let you work too much. I'll wash, you dry," she responded, tossing a towel at him. He grabbed the towel, his face back to his confused expression. "So, Arnold…uh, long time, huh?"


	4. Chapter 4

Oh my goodness, you guys are amazing! I can't believe how fast I've been churning this story out, but I couldn't do it without my faithful readers and reviews encouraging me along the way! I'm thrilled you guys love this story so much, and I can't wait to keep it going! I can't promise I'll be able to update this fast all the time, but I'll do my best! I love you all, and don't forget to READ and REVIEW! :)

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_"Did Helga really just…volunteer…to help me?"_

Arnold vaguely heard his Grandpa tell her not to let him do too much, and saw him leave. His mind, however, was on this new, strange version of a girl he once knew. A girl who used to insult him as often as she drew breath. A girl who could be seen punching Brainy in the face on a weekly basis throughout elementary school. A girl who blushed, just a bit ago, when he had smiled back at her. A girl who's mouth was not currently scowling, and had just offered to help him clear the table. She looked up at him. He looked down, avoiding her eyes, and began to pile dishes together. She carried her dishes over to the sink and set them down—set them, not tossed them. She turned on the water and grabbed the soap—she was planning to _wash_ the dishes too? Who the hell was this girl, and where did the Helga G. Pataki he knew go? Not that he minded the change, it was somewhat of a relief to know he could be in the same room as her without fear of a spitball being lodged in his ear. He set his stack of dishes next to her's in the sink and reached for the sponge.

"Here, let me do that."

"Oh, no way Football head," she replied, and smacked his hand away from the sponge.

_"Football head…I haven't heard that one in a while. Guess some things will never change."_

"You heard my express orders not to let you work too much. I'll wash, you dry." She tossed a towel at him, which he caught. She rolled up her sleeves and looked over at him. "So, Arnold…uh, long time, huh?"

It took him a moment to respond. His brain was still trying to make sense of the situation. "Oh, uh…yeah. Yeah, it has been a while. Uh, how are you?"

She didn't look at him as she responded, "I'm good. I'm sorry for showing up so unexpectedly, my company only told me two weeks ago they were moving me out here. One day I'm sipping lattes on the fifteenth floor of a Detroit skyscraper, the next I'm packing my bags and heading back east to a town I never thought I'd see again. It's amazing how much it's changed, but stayed the same, you know? When we moved I lost touch with everyone but Phoebe, and I haven't even seen her in a year."

He dried the plate she handed him without looking at it. He was focused on her, his mind beyond comprehension. Here he was, having a civil conversation with Helga Pataki in his kitchen, doing dishes that she had volunteered to help with.

When he didn't respond, she glanced over at him. "Take a picture, Arnold. Yes, it's me. Yes, I used to stuff my classmate's heads in toilets and put "kick me" signs on your back when you weren't looking. But that was fifteen years ago. Things have changed. I'm not the same person you knew."

_"She called me Arnold. Twice now. Not Arnold-o, just…Arnold. And…that response…it was like she read my mind. But she's right…it HAS been fifteen years…"_

He cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah. Um, sorry. It's just…well, different, you know? Good different, though. I mean, not that you were bad before—I mean, you kind of were. But, no. I mean, you were kind of mean, but you're not now, and, uh…" _"Stop rambling you idiot."  
_His voice trailed off and he felt heat rising to his face.

She chuckled and handed him another dish. "Don't worry," she said, looking at him, "I understand. It took Phoebe some getting used to, and she's my best friend. I just hope that the more time you spend around me, now that we're adults, you'll be able to forgive the younger version of me you remember, and accept this new Helga G. Pataki." She looked back to the dishes in the sink and picked up a new one to wash. Without looking at him, she continued, "oh, and Arnold?"

"Umm, yeah?"

"Close your mouth. I feel like I'm talking to a football headed goldfish."

"Oh. Uh, right. Sorry."

The two finished the dishes and walked back toward their separate rooms. Arnold climbed the stairs to his room and sat down on his bed. His mind was reeling after the night he'd just had. After the talk in the kitchen, he and Helga had made polite conversation for a short while, but eventually it died down and they finished the dishes in silence. Tearing his tshirt off over his head and kicking off his jeans, he threw on a pair of sweatpants and climbed out onto the roof. He sat in the cool night air, gazing up at the sky and breathing deeply, trying to clear his head.

"_As if I don't have enough to be worrying about right now. This court case is coming up on the nineteenth, and I'm stressed out enough about that. Now Helga's back in my life, and she's changed. She's…nice. And she…well, she…oh, just say it. She got hot. You haven't seen her in years. Not since both of us were ten, and she had a unibrow and pigtails and put thumbtacks and chewed gum on your seat on a daily basis. Why…_ what_ is that?"_

The tinkling of a piano drifted it's way up to Arnold. _"I haven't heard Grandma play the piano in years."_ He climbed over the fire escape and down the steps, ending outside the open window facing the sitting room. He looked through the window and saw Mrs. Ambroso standing in front of the baby grand piano they had in the middle of the room. She was blocking the musician, swaying gently to the concerto issuing from the instrument. Grandpa and Grandma sat on the loveseat, holding hands and smiling. Mrs. Ambroso moved, and Arnold saw the musician. She had let her hair out of the bun, and it fell in kinky waves down her back. She had changed into a pink tank-top and pajama shorts. Her eyes were closed, and she smiled gently as she played. It was an amazing sight. Arnold leaned back away from the window.

_ "This girl is going to be the death of me."_

He climbed up the fire escape and crawled back into his room. Sitting on his bed, he pulled out his blackberry. Scrolling the screen until he found the name he was looking for, he clicked "new message" and began to type.

**"Gerald. I think I'm going insane."**

**_"Why, man? What's up?_"**

**"Well, we have this new boarder. You're never going to believe who."**

**_"Helga Pataki."_**

**"How did you know?"**

**_"Man, I'm engaged to her best friend."_**

**"Oh yeah. But she's so different. I don't know what to think."**

**_"Yeah, I know."_**

**"How do you know?"**

**_"Dude, keep up. You don't think she and Pheebs haven't seen each other, have you? She's been around here a few times. Been a while though. Haven't seen her since we moved."_**

**"So you knew how different she is?"**

**_"Yeah, weird huh?"_**

**"Yeah, weird. Really weird. She's playing the piano downstairs for my grandparents and everything."**

**_"Yeah, Pheebs said she'd taken up music. Something about it being a therapy or something."_**

**"Makes sense. I just…Gerald, I don't know what to think. She shows up here so suddenly and she's changed into this nice, pretty girl who doesn't hate my guts. I actually _want_ to spend time with her."**

**_"Sounds like you got bit by the love bug."_**

**"Gerald, grow up and think about what you just implied. You actually think I'm interested in Helga G. Pataki?"**

**_"You admitted yourself she's not the same girl we knew. Who knows? Give her a chance. Maybe you can be friends."_**

**"Yeah, right."**

**_"Better to be friends with her than to have her shoving food in your face."_**

**"You're right. It's just…weird."**

**_"Trust me, man. I know."_**

Arnold closed his phone and tossed it on the bed. Some help Gerald was. He knew she was different and didn't even tell him! _"Well, it's not like he KNEW you two were going to cross paths ever again. And he's so busy with his job and helping Phoebe plan the wedding, it's probably not exactly vital information to him. Some forewarning would have been nice, though."_ He set his phone on the table and crawled under his blankets. Making sure his alarm was set, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming about goldfish with Gerald and Grandpa's faces telling him that some dishes change over time, and a beautiful blonde girl blushing at him as she played the piano kept drifting in and out of the dream.


	5. Chapter 5

Again, thank you guys so much for the wonderful reviews! You've empowered me to write as often as possible, and although I can't promise to keep updating on a daily basis, I'll at least be writing every day. **Angie93**: In the shower Helga is singing an Appalachian Folk Song by Jean Ritchie entitled "Bluebird Song". It's a fun little song that I've always enjoyed. The song later in this chapter is another folk song called "Back in the Good Old Days." Thank you for all of the encouragements and don't forget to READ and REVIEW! :)

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After she had said her peace about hoping he forgave her past and accepting her new, changed self, Helga had tried to make small talk with Arnold. She really tried. She asked about his job, the court case, his college, his favorite sports team, and even the weather. His answers were: fine, stressful, Railey School of Law, Chicago Cubs, and cool; respectively. Never an elaboration, just one or two words. During the conversation (if it could even be called such) she glanced at him several times through the corner of her eye. He watched her working with a confused expression on his face, sometimes switching to thoughtful, and back to confused. _"Crimeny, was I that horrible to him back when we were kids that he can't get over this?"_ Eventually they lapsed into silence and finished the dishes. When the last item had been put away, she gave him a tentative smile. His response was to furrow his brow a little further than it had been and turn away from the kitchen, headed toward the stairs. Helga rolled her eyes and followed him, headed to her own room.

Closing her door behind her, Helga walked over to her bed and threw herself on it. She turned over and faced the ceiling, furious with herself. _"Well that certainly didn't go as I had wanted. Your first time seeing him after a decade and a half and you screw it up."_ She shut her eyes tight, long forgotten memories of their last interactions before she moved playing through her mind. After they had saved the neighborhood and she had kissed him, she blamed it on "the heat of the moment", which they had both accepted and never spoke of the subject again. The next year, as if to emphasize the idea that the kiss meant nothing, she had been extra mean to him. She never missed a chance to call him names, and she came up with a new prank for him at least once a week. Every day she messed with him somehow, whether it was gum in his seat, bugs in his food, shooting spitballs at him constantly during classes...she never missed a chance. Arnold, the classic do-gooder who managed to see good in everyone, refused to ever fight back. _"Who am I kidding? I screwed myself over fifteen years ago. It's no wonder he didn't want to speak to me. He probably hates my guts. He probably wishes I would leave again and get out of his life."_

"Ugh!" Helga beat her fist into a pillow. She stood up and changed her clothes. She threw on a pink tank top and a pair of pajama bottoms Miriam had given her last year. Grabbing her water bottle from the bedside table, she headed out of the room to fill it up in the kitchen.

As she passed the sitting room, she saw Grandpa Phil and Grandma Gertie singing along to an old folk song while Mrs. Ambroso played the piano.

_When you gotta go, you gotta go, there's always somebody, don't you know?_

_They hang around a-sayin' "well I told you so" back in the good old days_

_Yeah, the good old days are past and gone_

_Lots of good people have gone on_

_That's my life the way I've sung this song_

_About back in the good old days_

_Oh, we'll all join hands and we'll gather 'round_

_And when that old guitar starts to make that sound_

_A lotta good things went down, down, down_

_Back in the good old days!_

Helga leaned in the doorway, smiling and listening to the old folk song. She had heard it once or twice before, and it made her smile to watch Grandpa Phil and Grandma Gertie holding hands and singing along. At the song's end, Grandpa Phil laughed and kissed Grandma Gertie on the cheek, who blushed.

"Watch yourself, sir! I'm married!" She exclaimed with a wink. She noticed Helga in the doorway. "Oh, Eleanor! It's lovely to see you. Did you enjoy the song?"

"Yes, I love music. Any sort of music, really," Helga responded, looking at the piano.

Mrs. Ambroso leaned forward and asked, "do you play?"

Helga smiled. "Yes, I've played since I was eleven."

Mrs. Ambroso stood, smiling. "Come here, dear! Show us what you've got!" She winked at Helga and beckoned her forward, who hesitantly approached the baby grand.

Helga ran her fingers over the keys. "It's been forever since I've had a chance to practice. I'm sure I'm rusty."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Ambroso insisted. "I'm sure you're still as wonderful as you ever were!"

Helga grinned at her and sat on the bench. Mrs. Ambroso positioned herself right behind the piano, facing Helga, her back to the window. Helga took a deep breath and settled her fingers on the keys. Instantly as she began to play her muscle memory kicked in. Her fingers knew what to do, even if her brain didn't. She felt herself melt into the music, her eyes drifting closed. The harmony of the concerto reverberated off of her very bones, and she lost herself in the music.

_ "I didn't realize just how much I've missed this."_

She continued playing for several minutes before ending the piece and opening her eyes. Mrs. Ambroso had her hand over her heart and tears were threatening to spill over her eyes. Grandpa Phil and Grandma Gertie were cuddled in the loveseat, holding hands and smiling.

Grandpa Phil looked her in the eye. "Miss Pataki, you have a true gift. That was beautiful."

Helga blushed slightly and smiled back at him. "Thank you, sir." She stood up and Mrs. Ambroso wrapped her in a hug.

"My dear, you must play for us more often. Do you play anything else?" she inquired.

"Well, I play the guitar and the cello, and I sing a little," Helga responded.

"Wonderful! Simply wonderful!" Mrs. Ambroso claimed, and released Helga. Helga, now officially embarrassed, though rather pleased at the same time, bade everyone goodnight and took her water bottle up the stairs to her room. Closing her door, she set the bottle on her bedside table. _"Now if only Football head were as easy to please,"_ she mused. She crawled under her covers and turned off the lamp. The stars peeked through the opening in her curtains. Sighing, she stared out the window and snuggled under her blanket. _"Oh well. Tomorrow's a new day."_ With that thought, she closed her eyes, and was soon asleep.

The next morning dawned bright and early. Helga's alarm clock chimed at exactly 6:45am. Her hand was itching to hit the snooze button, but she forced herself awake. She sat up and stretched, hearing the joints in her arms creak and her back pop. Yawning, she walked toward the wardrobe. She laid out a new dress on her bed: bright pink with a sweetheart neckline and a white sash. Walking toward the bathroom, she heard a soft knock at the door. _"Who the hell…?"_ She ran her fingers through her hair and hoped her breath didn't stink too bad. She reached the door and turned the knob.

"A-Arnold? Wha-?" She looked at the man standing in the doorway. Wearing sweatpants and a white tank top, the lean muscles in his abdomen and arms were emphasized as he raised his arm and rubbed his neck uncomfortably. _"Oh lord he really is gorgeous."_

"Um…hey, Helga. Um, sorry for um, showing up like this so early. But, um, I just….I wanted to, um, apologize. For how I acted last night. It's just, well, I mean, y-you can understand why it was hard for me, can't you? But, uh, I've been thinking a lot since then, and, uh, it's unfair of me not to give you a chance, 'cause it's been so long, you know? Well of course you know. Um, a-anyway. I just wanted to say that. And, uh. Maybe we could meet up for lunch today, and um, catch up? I mean if you don't want to that's fine but—"

Helga put her hand on his arm to stop him. "It's okay, Arnold. I understand. I'd love to do lunch. What did you have in mind?" She prayed to whatever god was listening that he couldn't hear how hard her heart was pounding.

Arnold smiled, reassured. With a little more confidence, and a little less stuttering, he replied, "there's a little café a couple blocks from my office, down on Painter Street. Café Oley. Want to meet there around noon?"

Helga smiled, "that sounds good. I'll see you then." Arnold smiled and walked back toward the stairs. She watched him start up the stairs and she shut her door. Falling onto her bed, she sighed a fluttering sigh that she hadn't sighed in years.

"_I'm having lunch with Arnold! Oh God oh God!"_ She looked at her clock. _"Oh shit."_ She ran to the bathroom and showered faster than ever before. Throwing on her clothes, some makeup, brushing her teeth, and blow-drying her hair in under ten minutes, she slipped on her shoes, grabbed her purse, and hopped down the stairs.

Grandma Gertie was standing in the kitchen, holding a tray of fresh apple scones. "Breakfast, Eleanor?"

"Thank you, Grandma Gertie!" Helga said as she scooped up a scone in a napkin. "I'll see you tonight!"

"Actually, you won't dear," Grandma Gertie replied. Helga stopped. "It's Phil and mine's anniversary. Our spirits have been joined together now for eleventy-hundred years. Seventy-three years, in mortal time. He's taking me to dinner tonight to celebrate."

Helga smiled, "that's wonderful! Congratulations. So I guess it'll just be Ernie, Mr. Hyunh, Mrs. Ambroso, Charlie and I for dinner. And Arnold, if he can make it."

"Wrong again, nakama. Mr. Hyunh, Charlie, and Ernie are going bowling, and Mrs. Ambroso left last night to visit her grandchildren for the weekend. It'll be just you here tonight, unless Kimba makes it home early."

"Oh…" Helga was slightly taken aback. She had never been alone in the boarding house before. She didn't think it possible. With so many living here, there seemed to be someone in the house with her at all times. Not that she minded being alone. She was used to it. Miriam and Bob often forgot they had a daughter, so at times, even when they were home, she was alone. Whenever she moved out, she was officially alone. The boarding house was the first time in years she felt truly connected to people. "Well, that's not so bad." The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed 8am. "Oh, I'm officially late for work. Crud. Have a good night, Grandma Gertie! I'll see you when you get home!" She ran out the door and into her Honda. She backed out of the driveway while pulling her seatbelt on, the hot scone stuffed in her mouth. By a miracle, she reached her office with five minutes to spare before her first meeting.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey, guys! I'm going to start off by apologizing for how long it's taken me to update. Life's a mess of chaos lately and I simply haven't had time! But I've had plenty of ideas rolling around and formulating in my brain the entire time, so now, I'm finally getting a chance to put it all (or most of it) down into the next chapter! Thank you all for the encouraging reviews, and I promise, all questions will be answered in due time. IF, however, I don't answer any specific questions, and you really really wanna know the answer, feel free to message it to me! Until then, please enjoy my latest Sometimes chapter, and don't forget to READ and REVIEW!

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He started down from his fourteenth-floor office around 12:30. _"I am having lunch today with Helga G. Pataki."_ He had been repeating it to myself all morning, but everything about the statement seemed surreal. His inner ten year old was screaming at him, telling him not to believe it, to run away. He did his best to quiet it, but he couldn't help but understand his inner child's fear. The last time he had seen Helga Pataki she had given him a dirty look as she rode away in the back of her father's car just three days after their fifth grade graduation ceremony. Until then, he had spent his life trying to ignore her tendency to bully and harass him, because on occasion he had seen a different side of Helga. He had seen kindness behind the rough exterior on the rare occasions she had let her guard down. And then there was the FTi incident…which just created more confusion, especially when she became even worse with the bullying the next year.

His fifth grade year was one of his worst ever, having his personal dark shadow named Helga Pataki following him around and causing pain and havoc whenever possible. He was so utterly relieved whenever she left that summer. Finally, he would be able to live his life normally, without having to check over his shoulder, or test his food before he ate it, or constantly expect the unexpected. For fifteen years afterward he gave Helga Pataki hardly a thought, having worked to push her completely out of his mind soon after her departure. And now, suddenly, here she was, back in his life, only dramatically different. The kinder, gentler side of her nature was now supreme over her former, angry self. She was civil, mannered, funny, and dare he say it? Rather charming. He hadn't spent much time talking to her yet, but that was his fault more than her's. He had been in such a state of shock last night while this blue-eyed beauty that used to make his life hell tried to make polite conversation with an old classmate that he could do barely more than dry the dishes and answer every question she asked with one or two words. His brain could not perform the multitasking necessary to speak, breathe, and dry the dishes at the same time. Some part of him realized, however, that he was being rude with his open-mouthed staring and blunt answering, and she eventually lapsed into silence.

The next morning he awoke an hour before his alarm was set to go off. He laid there in bed, reliving childhood memories that he had long forgotten and comparing that version of Helga to this new version. _"Gerald likes her. He likes her and he hated her more than I did as kids."_ Finally he decided it was time to own up to his behavior the night before. He made his way downstairs and stopped in front of her door. He stood there, staring at the woodwork, for five whole minutes before he raised his hand and knocked. Almost instantly the door was opened, and a sleepy Helga with messy hair, dressed still in her nightclothes opened the door. He was taken aback by her appearance, or rather, his personal reaction to her appearance. _"How can looking so disheveled make someone look so gorgeous?"_ Unfortunately, these thoughts threw all of his others about apologizing and proposing a brunch right out of his head. He scrambled to collect his previously organized thoughts, stuttering along the way. Luckily, she had overlooked his haphazard way of apologizing and accepted his invitation to lunch, which was where he was now headed.

So focused on his thoughts of the past and the present, Arnold didn't pay attention to his surroundings, and knocked right into the woman on the elevator as he entered it. She dropped the stack of files she was holding, and immediately she and Arnold both bent down to pick them up. Arnold was stuttering apologies as the woman grinned at him and said, "well hello to you too, football head." Arnold started and looked up at Helga, confusion etched all over his face.

"He-Helga? What are you doing here?" Helga finished loading the files back into her arms and stood up. Arnold slowly stood as she rolled her eyes.

"I work here, doi. Did you not hear me last night when I told you I was one of the new Operational Consultants?"

Arnold flushed. He hadn't paid much attention at all to anything she had said last night, so distracted he had been observing her. Helga laughed. _"Wow…even her laugh is different. More…well, happy."_

"Well, surprise! We're coworkers. Well, technically we're coworkers, but our jobs are on opposite ends of the law spectrum." Arnold stood there in shock, nodding his head. The elevator stopped at the fourth floor and Helga started off. "I'll meet you at the café, okay? I just need to drop these off at my desk."

With that, the elevator doors closed, leaving Arnold alone in the small enclosure. He desperately wracked his brain trying to remember their conversation from the night before, but he could barely remember any of it. He remembered answering a few questions about himself, but he remembered nothing of Helga telling him about herself and her job. He knew her company had moved her out here temporarily, and he had heard talk of the new hot transfer employee, but he had never connected the two.

Still mulling this over, he walked through the lobby, acknowledging a couple people who greeted him on his way out, and headed for the café.

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Helga made her way to her desk, smiling to herself. She had gotten a shock when she read the personnel portfolios of the major employees and Arnold's had shown up as one of them. Of course she knew through Grandpa Phil that he was a lawyer in the same town that she was now working, but she hadn't realized he worked for Rutherford and Sims. She had made mention of the fact that they worked together last night during their 'conversation', but he was so spaced out during the whole thing it was little wonder he didn't remember. She almost preferred his finding out like this, though. It was quite amusing.

She reached her desk and set the files beside her computer. Reaching for her purse, Angela, her coworker, peered over top of the cubicle. "Hey girl! You ready for lunch today?" Helga's eyes widened.

"Oh my gosh! We have lunch plans today! Oh no…" Helga looked guiltily up at Angela, who had a knowing eyebrow cocked.

"You forgot, didn't you?"

"I'm so sorry! I accidentally made plans with a childhood friend for lunch today. Can we reschedule for tomorrow? My treat," she pleaded with the woman. There was no way she was missing her lunch with Arnold.

Angela smiled. "Of course, girl. Don't worry about it! So who is this mystery friend?"

Helga sighed in relief and grabbed her purse. "No mystery. It's Arnold Shortman. He's a lawyer here."

Angela's mouth dropped. "Arnold…_Shortman?_ You're having lunch with the hot young lawyer working the biggest case this town has ever seen? How did you manage that? Damn, girl."

Helga smiled in embarrassment, "like I said, we're childhood friends. I'm staying at the boarding house his grandparents own until I get my own apartment, so we sort of reconnected. It's no big deal, really."

Angela shook her head, her eyes wide. "No big deal? Honey, it is a big deal indeed! Tell me EVERYTHING when you get back! Now GO! Don't you dare stand that hunk of a lawyer up!"

Laughing, Helga waved to her friend and headed toward the elevator.

Helga reached the restaurant not five minutes after Arnold had been seated. It was a smaller place, squished between a book shop and a hairdresser. It was a textbook-definition of a minimum wage college student job. However, it was quaint, with swirly writing on the glass doors and draperies on the windows. She walked in and immediately spotted Arnold sitting in a small booth next to a window. A hostess stood up from her seat behind the podium, a forced smile on her lips. "May I help you, ma'am?" Helga smiled and shook her head, nodding toward Arnold, who was waving at her. The hostess shrugged and sat back down as the smile dropped from her face like liquid, inspecting her nails once more.

"Hey!" Arnold greeted Helga as she sat her coat over the back of the chair and took her seat. Helga greeted him in return, "Hey, Arnold. Feeling better?"

Arnold grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that, it was just a little bit of a shock seeing you there."

Helga raised an eyebrow at him. "It wouldn't have been that much of a shock today if you hadn't been too shocked last night to pay attention to what I was saying, Football Head. But it's okay. The stupid look on your face was rather entertaining." Arnold blushed slightly in response, embarrassed. Helga grabbed a menu. "So what's this place got that's good?"

A that moment the waitress arrived at the table. "Drinks?" She asked.

"Beer, please. And a water," Arnold replied immediately. Helga looked at him again, both eyebrows raised. Arnold avoided her eye as Helga stared at him. She didn't look away as she requested a coke from the waitress, who hurried off to fulfill the order.

Arnold cleared his throat. "So, uh, how, uh, how are you liking it here? I mean, I know it's not, um, what you're used to."

Helga rolled her eyes to herself and answered, "It's nice. It's different. Not as big and tech-y as the one back home is. But it's fine. How long have you been a lawyer here?"

"About three years. They gave me a job as a junior lawyer right after I graduated, and I've slowly worked my way up until I got where I am now. I've worked a few cases as a team with a few other junior lawyers, but I've finally reached the point that I'm on my own," Arnold replied, a little more at ease with the familiar subject. The waitress returned with the drinks, setting them on the table as she looked at the two of them.

She looked Helga up and down once before noticeably turning to Arnold and asking, "Are you ready to order? I can tell you the specials if you like," a wide, probably-supposed-to-be-dazzling smile was across her face.

_"Bitch."_ Helga bit the inside of her cheek before she said something she would regret to the woman.

Arnold seemed unfazed by the blatant flirting and subsequent snubbing of Helga by the waitress as he continued looking at the menu while he ordered. "Um, can I just have a cheeseburger, no mayo, with fries?" He handed her the menu.

The waitress took his menu and glanced at Helga, who, with a sarcastic smile, told her she'd have the same. The waitress barely acknowledged her, turned to give Arnold another smile, and walked away. Helga's jaw was clenched in an effort to retain her anger at the audacious woman, her eyes following her as she walked away. Arnold looked up at Helga and started to continue with the conversation.

"So, how long have you been an operational—Helga? Is something wrong?"

Helga started, taking note of her furiously clenched jaw and that her eyes were shooting daggers toward the kitchen. Taking pains to soften her expression, she smiled at Arnold. "Um, no. Sorry. What were you saying?" Arnold raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm sorry. The waitress was…bothering me," she reluctantly admitted.

Arnold furrowed his brow. "Bothering you? How so? The waitresses are always extremely nice here."

Helga chucked at him. _"Typical oblivious football head. Not much has changed, has it?"_ Out loud she said, "of course they're extremely nice when you're the 'hot young lawyer working the biggest case this town has ever seen!'"

Arnold choked on his drink. "Excuse me?"

Helga laughed. "That was my coworker's exact response when I told her who I was having lunch with today. She was practically drooling." She smiled as Arnold blushed. "What? Finding it hard to believe you're the town hunk?"

Arnold, still blushing, replied, "I'm not the town hunk. If I wasn't working this case no one would have a clue who I was."

Helga rolled her eyes. "Oh, puh-lease. From what Phoebe would say through high school you had girls practically worshipping you at your feet. I heard even Rhonda Wellington Lloyd herself graced you with her interests."

"Rhonda? Ha! If you call 'Arnold, dear, I believe it's time we started dating. Our looks together would be incomparable' interests," Arnold laughed, impersonating Rhonda's condescending tone of voice, even looking down his nose at Helga as she laughed.

"She did NOT say that? Oh my gosh, the Princess didn't change at all after I left, did she?" Helga said as she caught her breath.

"Yeah, not at all. Why DID you leave, anyway?" Arnold asked her.

"Bob got a promotion, and it was either take the job and move to Michigan, or unemployment. With Miriam diving deeper into the bottle as every day went by, there was no way he couldn't take the job. Someone's gotta pay the bills," Helga answered.

Arnold nodded his head in understanding. "Did you like Michigan?"

"Are you kidding?" Helga replied, "rolling mountains? Lush, green forests? White, sandy beaches on the shores of the Great Lakes? Towering cities and decent school systems? I hated it. For a while, at least. I came to love it, but it took a while. I was away from home, away from my friends, away from the only life I'd ever known. Sure, I made friends there, but Phoebe was still my best friend, and I eventually lost touch with everyone else here, so I learned to adapt."

Arnold listened interestedly. "I have to admit, things were…weird. With you not here, I mean. I never really got used to your absence. It didn't feel like Hillwood anymore without you storming up and down the halls and streets and hearing "football head" and "bucko" on a daily basis," he said, smiling.

"Come on now, Bucko. You're not getting all sentimental on me now, are you?" Helga teased.

The food arrived and the waitress set Arnold's down in front of him gently, never looking away from his face, never dropping the smile plastered across her own. She set Helga's down much less gently with hardly a glance at her as she stared at Arnold and asked, "can I get you anything?"

Arnold smiled at her. "No, thank you, I'm good. Helga?" Helga shook her head, her jaw clenching again. The waitress walked away as Helga let out an aggravated sound.

"You really didn't notice that? Are you that oblivious?"

"What are you talking about?" Arnold asked, dumbfounded.

"The bitch who treated me like I'm not even here while she nonverbally screamed at you to take her on this table!" Helga fumed. _"Stop getting so worked up. He'll think you're jealous."_ Helga took a deep breath as she tried to calm herself down as Arnold sat with his mouth slightly agape, speechless. "Arnold, don't worry about it. So tell me about this court case?"

Arnold started and grabbed his fork as he began discussing the familiar topic with Helga. The conversation lasted the duration of the meal, giving Helga adequate time to get lost in her thoughts about Arnold, the past Arnold, the present Arnold, everything about him. She fought with herself as she did this, masking her inner struggle with a politely interested look that Arnold couldn't seem to see through. _"You're just digging yourself right back into the hole you've spent fifteen years trying to climb out of." "But he's so gorgeous. I forgot how perfectly perfect he was." "But all it's ever caused you is heartache. He didn't like you then, he's not going to like you now." "Maybe, maybe not." "You're NOT nine anymore!" "Neither is he! Things change!"_

By the time the lunch had ended and she and Arnold had split the bill—she refused to leave any tip for the waitress—Helga knew she was falling back into a dangerous spot she hadn't been in for years. She couldn't help it. Arnold's looks, his personality, his humor, even his obliviousness to certain things, it had all intensified in it's attractiveness since she had seen him last. They walked together back to the office building and Helga inconspicuously stood a little closer to him than needed on the elevator, hoping to catch his scent before she got off. He had a rich, musky smell, and Helga found herself inhaling deeply before the doors opened, where Angela was surely bursting to hear all about the lunch date. _"Helga, old girl, you've done it now."_


End file.
